


Death by Sleep

by dysphoria (amoralisch)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death In Dream, Mild Language, The Raven King Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 16:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9665021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoralisch/pseuds/dysphoria
Summary: Now Ronan had become Lynch. Two syllables had become one, spoken in the voice of his best friend but the tone had changed. Colder, sharper… It had been said on more than one occasion that Ronan Lynch was Richard Gansey’s dog. Now Gansey could say his name like it was the truth. And Ronan would do much to change that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I never could get over the feeling that there is a gap between book 2 and 3 in Gansey's and Ronan's friendship... some of it becomes clear in book 4 but still... 
> 
> As always you might have to suffer through some translation errors and misspellings .... runs for cover ...

 

>  

* * *

 

> “Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.”    
>  ― **Stephen King**
> 
> “I don’t know what’s worse: to not know what you are and be happy, or to become what you’ve always wanted to be, and feel alone.”    
>  ―  **Daniel Keyes,**   **Flowers for Algernon**
> 
> * * *
> 
>  

In the beginning, there had only been him. It had been after a time when there had been a version of him who had been part of something bigger, something nicer, something safer. It had been right after he had lost his father and in turn, his whole family. The only part or his former life that had stayed with him had been Richard Gansey and even that had been different all of the sudden - _he_ had been different. Ronan Lynch, second son of the Lynch family, his father’s pride and joy, had become an army of one. From there on, everything had been a fight, a struggle, a constant battle against everyone and everything around him and against himself. Days had become nights, nights had become endless, sleepless, and everything had become a blur yet sharp around the edges. But he had still been Ronan. 

Now he had become Lynch. Two syllables had become one, spoken in the voice of his best friend but the tone had changed. Colder, sharper… It had been said on more than one occasion that Ronan Lynch was Richard Gansey’s dog. Now Gansey could say his name like it was the truth. Ronan had traded his passenger’s seat with the one behind it. He had traded it with Adam Parrish. Somewhere along the way things had taken a wrong turn, somewhere between dreamed up car keys and restless nights and fast cars and colorful pills. Somewhere along the way ‘ _You incredible creature. Dream me the world. Something new for every night_ ’ had become a memory. The trust between him and Gansey had flat lined in a car crash, involving an orange 1973 Camero and the darkness his dreams had been made from and it had been arrhythmic ever since. 

Gansey did not play favorites, except when he did. When he spent more time with Adam now, though, Ronan knew the young man needed it. Adam had always needed help and never wanted it. Adam was a fighter - or maybe a struggler because Ronan sometimes couldn’t bear to watch their friend being beaten down over and over by everything the universe would throw his way. Now Parrish got the front seat of the Camero and Ronan pretended not to care and not to listen when Adam was asked for advice by Gansey. It wasn’t Gansey’s place to play favorites, it was Gansey’s place to _try_ to help and to _gloriously_ fuck it up like only Dick Gansey III could, all money and smiles and good intentions and it was _Ronan’s_ place to just shove what was needed down Adam’s throat without asking. Sometimes he had to be sneaky about it, sometimes all it needed was brute force. That’s how they worked. 

Gansey did not play favorites, except when he did. When Blue Sargent came along and when four had become five, had become two, had become - something - and then had become three and almost two but not really. The girl had been included into their group almost overnight and no one had protested when she had decided that she liked Adam. Parrish certainly hadn’t protested. And when she had decided that it was not Adam she needed to be with, no one had said anything - not even Adam. Now she and Gansey were about to become _something_ , although both of them seemed to be an awful lot against it as well as for it at the same time. Both of them thought no one had noticed and that was an insult to all of them. 

Ronan knew - had always knows - that Blue Sargent was someone special to his best friend. But the girl was an amplifier. She made everything good better and everything bad worse and Ronan tried to include her when he could and to ignore her when he couldn’t. That also meant that he would treat her like the rest of them but when she couldn’t stop poking around in places inside his head where he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he had snapped at her, like he would have had at everyone else. 

„ _You don’t know shit_.“ And Gansey, who had talked BS about some tea a second ago and pretended not to notice Adam trying to get a reaction out of Blue by touching her and failing miserably, had turned cold and did not look at Ronan when he had said:

„ _Ronan, you’re never going to talk to Jane like that again_.“ Back then, he had still been Ronan but the tone of Gansey’s voice had told him that he was already less than that. The moment had been lost when Blue had started to protest and Kavinsky had walked in. 

Joseph Kavinsky and his white Mitsubishi had turned Ronan’s world upside down, inside out. Someone, not him, certainly not him - but who else was there - had become Alice and this had become Wonderland and the Mitsubishi had become the white rabbit. With Kavinsky there was nothing _but_ favorites. You were in or you were out and _he_ wanted Ronan in but Ronan hadn’t been so sure. Not as long as Gansey had been around. 

„ _Dying is a boring side effect_.“ Kavinsky’s voice echoed in Ronan’s brain and made him shiver. 

 

* * *

 

 

Ronan did not sleep often at Monmouth Manufacturing these days. Not since the day he had finally been allowed to officially set foot into the Barns again. _Home… home, home…_ the word tasted bittersweet in his mouth. One week after his father had been murdered, Gansey had given Ronan a new home and that was what Monmouth Manufacturing had become to him as long as he hadn’t permitted himself to think of the Barns as such. But this cluttered room inside the huge building belonged to _Ronan_ and Lynch was just passing through. Overhead the rain hit the countless windows, drowning the world in noise Ronan had come to love. In nights like this he could brush off his headphones and listen to the rain for hours. Tonight, Lynch would stay here at Monmouth and tomorrow Ronan would go back to the Barns. 

Chainsaw hopped over the cluttered floor and inspected the room in case something had changed in her absence. He watched her fondly for a moment, then got off the bed and made his way over to lock his door. If he would fall asleep tonight and bring something back he didn’t intent to, he would make sure to deal with it himself this time. Ronan Lynch, army of one. He could hear Gansey in the kitchen-bathroom-laundry, most likely waiting for another call from Blue. It was as pathetic as it was sweet but who was he to judge? _He_ didn’t wait for calls at night. _He_ thought about Parrish when he was alone at night and watched Adam’s eyes following Blue in hope she would turn around when they were together. They were too caught up in their own business to pay him much attention. Chances were, he would end up with his dream things like his father had, losing track of the difference between dream and reality until it became the same. Would that be so bad?

He thought about all those sleepless nights he had shared with Gansey under this roof. He thought about the secrets between them, the half truths. Some of them dangerous, like knives twisting, cutting away the trust. He had given up some of them but where had that gotten them? Finally telling the truth about the night Noah and Gansey had found him half dead and making Gansey believe that it had never been a suicide attempt had felt like a huge step. In the end though, something between them had snapped like a broken link. Strangely, Gansey’s constant fear for Ronan’s well being had eased afterwards as if monstrous, deadly nightmares come to life were less dangerous than a young friend drowning in depression over his father’s death and his mother’s mental illness. Something about the whole thing was terribly wrong but Ronan couldn’t fix it, didn’t know how to. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, he closed his eyes and wondered if he would find any sleep tonight. He didn’t really expect to, lying there with his clothes on in he dark on top of his bed. It was more like testing the waters. 

 

* * *

 

 

In and out like a thief in the night, Kavinsky had taught him. But even if he had no intention of stealing from Cabeswater, Ronan’s dreams were sudden creatures. He stood among the trees with no recollection of coming here. 

„Greywaren,“ the trees greeted him. Cabeswater was a dark, lush place tonight and smelled like moss and wet leaves. He inhaled deeply and felt strangely at home. But his home felt empty and he turned around in a circle, looking for the Orphan Girl. It didn’t take her long to find him. 

She looked at him with her huge eyes, skin pale as a ghost in the moonlight but he didn’t notice the strangeness about her. She was as real to him as anyone else. Thinking of her in any other way was denying the existence of Chainsaw, of his mother, of Matthew… 

„Kerah?“ He blinked at her. Maybe she had been talking and he hadn’t listened. He blinked again. Before he could say something to her, she had turned around and run away. 

„Hey!“ He followed her. „Hey,“ he called again, as he caught a glimpse of her between the trees. „Wait up, dammit!“ She didn’t listen. He nearly tripped over a twisting root of a mossy tree and stumbled into a meadow where she waited for him beside a pond. „Stop running away,“ he grumbled. She came back to him, head cocked to one side just like Chainsaw looked at him sometimes. 

„Don’t steal from us,“ she told him in that impossible language he could only understand inside his dreams. 

„I won’t. Never again.“ He meant it. 

„It has to be given,“ she said.

„I know.“ And she smiled then, happy that he understood. 

„I’m not here to take anything,“ he said. He could think of nothing he wanted. But she looked at him in disbelief and then sulkingly, like she had caught him lying. „I’m not,“ he repeated. 

„It’s there,“ she said. He followed her gaze to the tree beside them. Ronan knew it had just been another tree a moment ago but now he could see a small door carved into the thick bark. He frowned at it and reached out. It was locked. 

„What’s in there?“ He had no idea. And that was strange because in order for him to take something from his dreams, he had to want it, really want it. She smiled at him, ran a circle in front of him, like a child about to tell a secret but holding out as long as possible, seeking another outlet for the excitement. „Tell me.“ He knew she wanted to. 

„Your answer,“ she said, huge eyes looking up at him. It felt like he would drown in those eyes. And then he knew, just like that, that he would find something in there, that would help him fix things between him and Gansey. And suddenly, he wanted it, wanted it _now_. But the door was locked. „Kerah has been lonely lately.“ Had he been? He didn’t want to think about that. 

„Where is the key?“ His fingers touched the keyhole. It was small and he could see nothing behind it. Orphan Girl ran another circle, around him and the tree this time, then pointed at the pond, all secrets spilled now. Ronan stepped closer and looked down. The pond wasn’t big. If he would stretch both arms out right at the center, he would be able to touch the mossy ground on either side. But it was deep, easily more that fifteen feet. He could see all the way down to the bottom and like she had told him, something silver caught his eye. „You really want me—“ But once again she was running away, leaving him to figure it out. „Little punk.“

Ronan turned back. He wasn’t really fond of swimming. He could swim, of course but there were a million other things he would rather do and diving down some gloomy, narrow place had an unpleasant taste of threatening claustrophobia to it. „Fuck it,“ he sighed and crouched down to dip his hand into the pond. It wasn’t warm but not exactly cold either. Ronan got up and shrugged, took a deep breath and jumped in. 

Like all his dreams, this one felt a little to real for his liking. Diving deeper, Ronan took two strokes down, three, four… He could feel the pressure, the chill that got colder down here but he kept his eyes on the silver key down below. _Down, down, down…_ He didn’t get closer. It was like the key eluded him as the water got deeper and he kept diving. Ronan didn’t look up, worried he might lose his nerv if he did so. He wanted this, needed to have it. Annoyance kept him going. Anger was always a familiar motivator for him. Six, seven… He closed his eyes and reached down.  
  
_Don’t look, just imagine it. Feel it…_

His fingers found the key at the bottom and he closed his fist around it. Now he looked up, as his strong legs found the muddy resistance of the bottom. A mud cloud surrounded him as he pushed upward. His lungs were already screaming for air and his dream was shifting again, responding to his fear. Too deep, he wouldn't make it. But he had to. Cabeswater wouldn’t let him die here. He had mastered his fears before, had pulled his own albino night horror out of his dreams. He wouldn’t drown in a fucking pond. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Noah was leaning over Ronan in the dark room. He hadn’t seen his friend in a while and it was rare for Ronan to stay the night at Monmouth. Chainsaw had woken up and was restlessly climbing up the outside of her open cage. Noah could barely hear her over the noise of the rain. He stared closely at his friend who was clearly in one of his dreams. 

Noah had seen it happen before. Ronan would go in too deep, would bring something back with him, something horrible. But maybe Ronan wouldn’t make it back tonight. His friend had inhaled deeply and stopped breathing. Noah had counted the seconds and then Ronan’s skin and clothes had become soaked with water, as if someone had opened the windows above them. It was happening again. Ronan was pulling something out of his dream and it didn’t look like he meant to. 

„Ronan!“ Noah leaned closer. Still not breathing. This was taking too long. Way, way too long. „Wake up!“ This wasn’t good. The ley line had been unstable lately. Adam had been working on it but Noah hand’t been able to talk to any of his friends. He knew it wouldn’t take much more though. Gansey and Adam had sensed his presence and turned in his direction, as if seeing something in their peripheral vision. With Blue around, they could probably see him. 

Noah tried again to wake Ronan. He was so close, he knew it. He reached out and grabbed Ronan’s shoulder to shake him, to pull the needed energy out of him before it was too late. 

_Hurry_ , he thought, desperate now. Below him, the sheets were wet as he kneed on top of them, leaning down screaming at Ronan’s face.

“Ronan!” The temperature dropped inside the room and Chainsaw flew circles between her cage and the bed. 

“Kerah!” She called but Ronan didn’t wake, didn’t breath. His wet hair and skin was covered in white frost where Noah had come near him but he didn’t notice and neither did the dead boy. 

“Ronan! Wake up!” Noah shook him, and pulled more energy from Ronan to do so but his pale friend didn’t even twitch. The rain came down harder now, and the noise became a roar above them. 

 

* * *

 

No way out. _No way, no way, no way…_ Ronan was in too deep to wake up and yet too aware to dream it all away, to turn it around, to ignore physics and create his own laws. And all at once the water became cold, so cold. Ice covered the pond and the light became pale and dimmed down to a low glow above it, above the trees. He could hear them mourn his name. 

His lungs ached as he pushed against the ice above, pounded his fist against it. It was so damned cold and it only got colder by the minute.Corpse cold… Noah. Dammit, dammit, dammit, Noah! Ronan wanted to scream but he had no breath left. He felt the key in his nearly frozen hand, his grip slackening. He refused to let it go. He wondered if he would die here, like this. He wondered if they would find him back in Monmouth Manufacturing, water in his lungs, ice cold, a dreamed up key in his hand. Or would he remain here in his secret place with the trees? And what about Matthew? They would all find out. Ronan Lynch had dreamed up his brother, had fabricated him from his dreams and pulled him out as a three-year old boy because he had felt lonely, because Declan hadn’t been the brother he had always wanted and because Gansey hadn’t been with him back then. 

He screamed then.

 

* * *

 

“ _No, no, no, no, no, no…_ ” Noah looked down wide eyed at Ronan; saw the white frost that had spread over the bed while he had been lost in his panic. Shocked, he withdrew from Ronan and vanished from the room. 

Gansey was sleeping on his bed in the main room. Both raven boys enjoyed the rainy nights that would make anyone else toss and turn restlessly under those high windows. Afraid to repeat what he had done to Ronan, Noah stood next to Gansey, unwilling to touch him. 

“Gansey, wake up!” The owner of Monmouth Manufacturing turned away from him in his sleep. Noah looked back at Ronan’s door, frightened. He used his unstable energy he had gotten from Ronan and pushed at a stack of books next to the bed. Books and sheets of paper tumbled down on top of Gansey, who shouted something unintelligible and sat up, one hand fumbling aimlessly for his glasses. 

“Noah?” There was no annoyance in his voice, even after being woken so abruptly. 

“Ronan,” Noah said, eyes wide. His smudgy face was pale and it seemed like his whole being flickered in and out before Gansey’s eyes. 

“Ronan?” The name sounded like what _has he done now_ , but Gansey got up and put his glasses on. He tried to open Ronan’s door but it was locked. “Ronan,” he called. “Open the door!” He could hear Chainsaw inside. 

“Kerah! Kerah!” She was flapping her wings and something wasn’t right in there. 

“Ronan!” _What has he done?_ _Has he dragged another night horror from his dreams?_ But all he could hear was Chainsaw. Gansey tried the door again; still locked. He turned around to Noah but he had vanished. Turning back to the door, Gansey thought he could see the ghost of his friend right in front of him – no – half inside himself and then there was an audible click as the door unlocked and was pushed open from the outside and a chill ran down Gansey’s spine. 

“Kerah!” Chainsaw came flying right at Gansey. Her wings touched his face, before the agitated bird turned around and flew back on top of her cage. Ronan lay on his bed, unmoving and Gansey reached out and turned the lights on. 

“Oh no,” was all he could say. Two strides along the path that leads the way through the cluttered room to the bed and he touched Ronan’s shoulder. He was so cold. “ _No_ ,” Gansey moaned. Ronan wasn’t breathing and he shook him hard. “No,” he said again, denying what he saw. “You can’t! You can’t do this! Ronan! You can’t do this to me!” He was angry now. It was so unlike him but it was better than the panic that tried to get a hold on him. How many times had he thought about finding Ronan too late? How many times had he worried? It had been such a relief when Ronan had told him that he had never – would never try to kill himself. And now this! 

Behind him, Noah was standing half hidden by the door, muttering over and over: “ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…_ ” 

_And all the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t…_

Gansey swallowed hard against the rising panic. This had to work, it was his only chance. Blue wasn’t here to help him but there was no time. He grabbed Ronan by the shoulders and leaned over him, looking down into his friend’s pale face. With all the strength and authority he could muster he said:

“ _Ronan_ , _wake up_!” And there was no refusing the king.

Ronan’s eyed opened and stared unseeingly up at Gansey. He shuddered once, before he coughed up green water from his lungs and took his first painful breath. It sounded terrible and wonderful at the same time to Gansey, who still grabbed his friend so hard that his fingers would leave bruises. 

 

* * *

 

 

There was nothing; just endless darkness and cold. It wouldn’t let him see, it wouldn’t let him think – nothing. He didn’t know how long it lasted; a minute, a day, a lifetime? - Until he was ripped out of it. There was nothing liberating about it. It was painful and sudden. He just _wasn’t_ and then suddenly he was again. It had not been his choice, he had done nothing. Someone had _made_ him come back, ordered him. Ronan couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His eyes were open but didn’t focus. He could hear his breath and it was a terrible sound. You knew it hurt just by listening to the choked gasps and that wheezing sound. It sounded horrible and then he could feel it. It _hurt_. His throat was aching, his chest was worse. Ronan tried to swallow and it took him a moment until he managed to do so. His mouth tasted – he didn’t know what this taste was – like decay; rotten leaves and drowned things. The returning feeling grew outwards and he could feel his skin again where his clothes touched it. It was so cold and he started to shake all over. He blinked. Someone was calling his name, had been calling it for a while now. Gansey. Gansey was leaning over him, touching him, shaking him, calling his name. Ronan looked up _at_ him not through him and relief was clearly written all over Gansey’s face. He had seen this before, he realized. It had been a while ago, back at the hospital. 

_So I was dying_ , Ronan realized. _Again_.

„ _Dying is a boring side effect_...“  


“Kerah!” Chainsaw landed right next to him. She was alright. Ronan closed his eyes for a moment as a heavy weight lifted from him. If Chainsaw was okay, then Mathew was too.Gansey was still talking to him.

“…you done? What happened?” Gansey was in bad shape, Ronan thought, eyes wide, messed-up hair, rumpled clothes, and a hair’s breadth away from losing it. Ronan couldn’t answer. His throat refused to produce words and he couldn’t stop shivering. The key, he remembered, _the key, the key_ … He clenched his cold fist. It was still there. 

“Get up,” Gansey ordered but all Ronan wanted to do right now was to curl up and get under his blankets – which were soaked he realized. “Noah, shower!” The hot water in Monmouth Manufacturing often took its sweet time and a moment later they heard the water in the shower being turned on in the kitchen-bathroom-laundry. Gansey was pulling on Ronan’s arm but Ronan was not cooperating. With some effort Gansey managed to pull Ronan from the bed and onto his feet but the taller boy stumbled and nearly took them both down to the floor. It was a lot like being drunk and close to passing out, Ronan thought, just colder and way more unpleasant. Gansey cursed in a very un-Gansey-like way and it would have amused Ronan at any other time. Unable to speak, allRonan could do was to make a weak sound of protest, as his friend manhandled him over to the kitchen-bathroom-laundry. Maybe he wouldn’t have minded so much if it wouldn’t have made his head spin and if he could place one foot in front of another. 

“ _Lynch_ ,” Gansey snarled frustrated and regretted it immediately when Ronan recoiled as if struck. They stood there for a minute in the middle of the main room next to Gansey’s miniature Henrietta, both breathing hard, Ronan head lowered and turned away and Gansey looking back at him, still keeping the older boy on his feet. “Come on,” he said then quietly and gave a gentle tug. They both managed to stumble into the kitchen-bathroom-laundry together, Ronan knocking his shoulder against the doorframe and Gansey scraping his hip against the other side. 

The wet clothes clung to Ronan like a second skin and by the time Gansey had wrestled him out of his black muscle T, he had given up. He tossed his own t shirt aside in one fluent movement and without even knocking his glasses askew in the process, Ronan noticed. He removed them afterwards and put them safely aside onto the fridge. 

With Ronan already wet, Gansey pulled him into the shower and under the now hot water. The older boy hunched his shoulders and leaned into Gansey who realized how hot the water must feel to Ronan’s cold skin right now. As proof Ronan made a keening sound and pressed his forehead into Gansey’s shoulder. 

“I know,” Gansey said and put one arm around Ronan’s shoulders and used the other hand to steady them against the tiled wall. There were some soothing words on the tip of his tongue but he knew Ronan would only scoff at them, no matter what kind of state he was in right now. 

“Fuck,” was the first thing leaving Ronan’s mouth as they stood there and the water burned on his skin as if it was boiling. Gansey closed his eyes and thanked God silently for this very Ronan-like exclamation. 

“Still with me,” he said.

“Not for long if you keep burning me, asshole,” Ronan hissed.

“Bear with it. Just a little longer.” 

“I know. I know!” Ronan hissed and it sounded like cursing. He stopped shivering after a few minutes. And they stood there a little longer until the water became tepid and Gansey turned it off. Ronan struggled out of his wet jeans and Gansey grabbed two large towels for both of them. They left the jeans in the shower and Gansey tossed the wet muscle t on top, along with their underwear. Both boys came back out of the kitchen-bathroom-laundry with towels wrapped around their hips, Gansey pulling his shirt back over his head with his glasses in hand and Ronan scuffling over to his room where Chainsaw was calling for him. 

Gansey got dressed in more than just a shirt and a towel and followed him. He found Ronan dressed in dark sweat pants sitting next to his wet bed on the floor, pulling a sweater over his head while Chainsaw sat patiently next to him. Gansey leaned against the doorframe and waited. The raven turned her head and looked at him and only then did Ronan follow her gaze. He looked tired, Gansey thought, so tired. 

“Come on,” Gansey said and turned around. Ronan could be like a wounded animal, he knew, hiding. You had to drag him out before he could. It took Ronan a moment to get back up and follow Gansey into the main room. Chainsaw sat on his shoulder but jumped down and hopped alongside him halfway across the room. 

“You want tea or something,” Gansey asked. 

“No more water,” Ronan growled. Then he just stood there. Any other night his sharp tongue would have had something crude and clever to say but not tonight. He needed to sleep but Gansey needed answers first. 

„You will die of thirst.“ He sat down cross-legged on his bed and left enough room for Ronan to sit beside him. He waited and picked up the books and papers Noah had knocked over. Gansey stacked them neatly next to his bed and Ronan sat down at the other end. 

“What happened?” Gansey looked at him. 

“I died.” His voice was flat but it delivered a blow Gansey could not dodge. It stirred those dark fears inside him, pulled them back to the surface and Gansey struggled to keep them down. He swallowed. Ronan glanced at him and sighed. He had something in his hand and twisted it between his fingers. A key. It as an impossible thing, like so many of the dream things, all rounded and twisted and Gansey couldn’t imagine what the lock must look like. He wanted to know, what had been so important to Ronan for him to drown in his own dream.

“I had to get this,” he said and the key flashed between Ronan’s fingers, “but then I got trapped inside my dream. It … _changed_ somehow. I know Noah had been there but I don’t know _how_. It just froze…the water, it…” Ronan sounded puzzled as if he was grabbing for a lost memory and Gansey remembered Noah waking him. Their friend was nowhere to be seen. Hiding, Gansey thought. 

“He said he is sorry.”

“Coward,” Ronan scoffed but there was no malice in it. Maybe he said it to lure Noah out but he didn’t appear. Gansey frowned.

“Will you go back tonight?” He didn’t want him to. He had nearly lost Ronan tonight and he couldn’t follow him into his dreams. Ronan thought about it for a moment. 

“No, not tonight,” he decided. Or maybe he would but he didn’t plan on doing anything tonight. Trouble was, he was sure he couldn’t stay awake but he couldn’t prevent himself from dreaming. He would leave the tree and its secret for another night though. Gansey nodded once. He watched Chainsaw hopping around his miniature Henrietta. 

Gansey got up and turned the lights off, making his way back in the dark. He could hear Ronan shuffling around, trying to get off the bed. He stopped in front of him and blocked his way. 

“You better not push me off my own bed tonight in your sleep,” he said and looked down at Ronan in the dark. Ronan looked up. He clearly hadn’t expected that and Gansey had to ask himself what his friend thought of him and why he expected to be left alone after nearly dying tonight. 

They lay down side by side and Chainsaw came over and claimed her place of top of Ronan. Maybe she can watch over his dreams, Gansey thought. 

“Good night, Ronan,” he said but realized that his friend was already asleep. The rain above them had died down to a light drizzle and he listened to Ronan’s even breathing. 

_Non mortem, somni fratrem,_ he thought and heard Ronan’s voice saying it in his memory.

 

* * *

 

Cabeswater was unchanged, Ronan discovered. He had brought the key with him but didn’t look for the tree. He sat down under one of the old trees and looked into the darkness of the night. Drowning, he decided, was not the way to go. A car crash maybe, a dragon – something fast, he thought. 

The trees whispered of secrets and he looked up. Maybe this wasn’t the key to his friendship with Gansey after all. Maybe there had been better days and maybe their trust had flat lined for a moment like his heart had but how could it be dead if Gansey could pull him back from wherever he had gone? Ronan smirked. Gansey didn’t play favorites, except when he did. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
